


The Spectre on the Stairs

by Small_Hobbit



Series: Through The Year [11]
Category: Spooks | MI-5
Genre: M/M, Spook Me Multi-Fandom Halloween Ficathon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-07-20 09:44:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16134689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: Ghosts didn't exist.  That was the first fact.





	The Spectre on the Stairs

**Author's Note:**

> The picture prompt is [Here](https://images12.fotki.com/v1667/photos/6/3814576/14859667/stf181_spirit-vi.jpg)
> 
> With my thanks to my beta, Okapi :)

Lucas sat in the armchair in his flat and forced himself to control his breathing.  When he was satisfied he was no longer shaking so badly he would drop anything he tried to pick up, he went into the tiny kitchen to make himself a cup of tea.  He thought longingly of the bottle of whisky in the cupboard, but getting drunk would only make things worse, so instead he filled the kettle and switched it on.  He took a plain brown mug and dropped a teabag into it and waited for the kettle to boil.  He poured boiling water into the mug, only spilling it slightly, dunked the teabag and then added milk.  Having taken as long as he could over this simple task, he carried his mug back into the main room and sank back down into the armchair.

Ghosts didn’t exist.  That was the first fact.  Therefore, whatever he had seen as he came up the stairs to his flat hadn’t been a ghost but something else.  The second fact.  It was nearly Hallowe’en, so all the shop windows and event posters on the tube were covered in witches and ghosts and pumpkins.  Third fact.  Therefore, whatever he’d seen out of the corner of his eye had reminded him of the advertising all around, and his imagination had turned it into a ghost.  That was the logical conclusion.

Knowing he would find it even harder to sleep than usual if he didn’t dispel his irrational fear, Lucas went to the door of his flat, opened it and peered out.  Then he slammed the door shut and leaned on it, the blood drumming in his ears.  The ghostly figure had moved and was now hanging over the bottom part of the flight of stairs which led up to his flat.  Lucas thought he could just make out chains around the figure.

But more than that, there was the scream.  Lucas had seen it, rather than heard it.  It was the same as looking at Edvard Munch’s painting of ‘The Scream’.  You couldn’t hear anything, but you knew what it sounded like.  It was the sound Morozov had been making before they had dragged him away.  He had started screaming, and the guards had arrived and pulled him out of the cell.  No-one knew what happened to him after that.

Lucas took out his phone and dialled Adam’s number.  Just hearing Adam’s voice might dispel Lucas’ thoughts.  But then he rang off before Adam picked up, not knowing what to say.  ‘I’m frightened of a ghost that’s outside my flat’ sounded ridiculous.

Lucas went back into the kitchen, found the bottle of whisky and poured himself a glass.  The temptation to take the bottle into the main room was strong, but Lucas put the whisky back in the cupboard and slammed the cupboard door shut.  He would drink one glass and have an early night.  It had been a hard week and he was still getting over a heavy cold, so he could do with the sleep.

Once more, Lucas sat in the armchair and slowly drank the whisky.  He picked up his phone, thinking he would just wish Adam ‘Good night’, but again rang off before the call could be answered.  Adam would only ask him if everything was all right, and Lucas wasn’t sure he could convincingly say that it was.

Instead, emboldened by the whisky, Lucas decided to confront his fear.  He opened the door and uttered a shriek.  The ghost had made it to the top of the stairs.  It tried to enter the flat, but somehow the chains held it back.  Nevertheless, its arms reached out and tried to grab hold of Lucas.  Lucas pushed the door closed and, coughing, spluttering, and gasping for breath, he ran into the bedroom.  There was nowhere to hide in there, but it was the furthest away he could get.

***

Adam let himself into the building where Lucas’ flat was.  A few months previously he’d given Lucas a key to his house, so Lucas could go straight from work instead of waiting for when Adam returned.  In exchange Lucas had given him the keys to his own flat.  Not that Adam had thought it was likely he would need to use them since they spent their time together in Adam’s house, but he knew that for Lucas it was symbolic – a sign of their shared relationship.

Adam had been surprised when Lucas had first called him and then rung off.  But he’d assumed Lucas would call back.  Adam had still been at work, so he’d forgotten about the call until there’d been a second one.  Since this wasn’t followed up by even a text he had started to feel worried.  And, as he wasn’t far away, he decided to call round and check everything was okay.

Walking up the stairs, Adam realised it felt far colder than he would have expected inside the building.  Not only that, but it seemed as if there was almost a mist, which meant he couldn’t see quite as clearly as he should have been able to.  And there was a slight smell of something rotten.  And then something was urging him to get away as quickly as possible.

But that was irrational.  And very wrong.  He continued up the stairs and into the mist.  When he reached the second floor, which was where Lucas’ flat was, he stepped out of the stairwell.  As he did so, he felt arms tighten around him.  He tried to resist being pulled back down the stairs and collapsed on the landing.

***

Lucas sat on his bed and once more tried to rationalise the situation.  Something was getting inside him and triggering old memories.  Adam had been encouraging him to share his nightmares and hadn’t once laughed at him.  This wasn’t actually a nightmare, but it was similar, caused no doubt by a combination of tiredness and the cold meds he’d been taking.  He would therefore call Adam, tell him what was going on in his mind, and, no doubt, again, refuse Adam’s suggestion of going for counselling.

Determined this time not to ring off, Lucas dialled Adam’s number.  He thought he could hear the ringtone from outside his flat.  But that was ridiculous.  He rang off but rang straight back.  Again he heard the ringtone.  Lucas’ previous encounters on the landing had had a certain ethereal feel; this sounded much more concrete.

Cautiously he opened his door, and found Adam slumped on the landing.  Again, he felt the malignant presence he’d sensed earlier, but this time he was angry.  He might have his own demons, but there was no way he’d allow them to attack the man he loved.  Bending down he took hold of Adam under the shoulders and dragged him into the flat.

Adam remained unconscious.  Shaking, Lucas took out his phone and dialled Ros.  When she answered, he said, “I don’t know what’s happening, but there’s something in the stairwell of my building.  Adam’s unconscious.  And I need help.”

Calmly Ros said, “Are you safe at the moment?”

“Yes, it doesn’t seem able to get into the flat.”

“Right.  Stay there and we’ll get to you as soon as we can.  Phone me if anything changes.”  Ros rang off.

Lucas sat on the floor, stroking Adam’s hair.  He couldn’t think what he should do, so he settled for watching Adam’s chest to be sure he continued to breathe.

After a few minutes, Adam groaned and sat up.  “Are you okay?” he asked Lucas.

“I – I think so.  I called Ros.  I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Good.”  Adam nodded.  “That’s good.”

They sat side by side on the floor, neither sure what they should do.  After a while, Lucas’ phone rang.  He answered it.  “Ros!”

“Hi Lucas,” Ros said.  “How’s Adam?”

“He’s conscious, but, um …”

“That’s okay.  I shall be coming in.  Wait until you hear me knock before you open your door.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll do that.”

Shortly afterwards, there was a knock at the door, and Lucas opened it to admit Ros, who was wearing heavy overalls and using a respirator.

“How are you both feeling?” Ros asked, taking the respirator mouthpiece away from her mouth and removing her backpack.

“Confused,” Adam said.

Ros nodded.  She took two respirators out of the backpack.  “If I help you, do you think you can put these on?” she asked.

They both agreed.

Ros helped them with the respirators, then made a phone call.  “Ben, we’re on our way down,” she said.

Lucas and Adam gripped the handrail as they made their way back down the stairs.  Once outside Ben assisted them to remove the respirators.

Lucas noticed the British Gas vans parked in front of the building.  “That wasn’t an ordinary gas leak,” he said.

“And they’re not ordinary British Gas men,” Ros replied.  “We’re not entirely sure what it was, but we do know you were targeted.  We’ll go into more details tomorrow.  In the meantime, if Ben drives you both back to Adam’s house, do you think you’ll be okay?”

“Yes, we’ll be fine,” Adam said.  “Now that I’m outside, I’m starting to feel somewhat better.”

Ben drove them to Adam’s house and, having satisfied himself that Adam and Lucas were all right, left. 

Adam walked into the kitchen.  “Do you want coffee or whisky or both?” he asked.

“Just coffee, please,” Lucas said.  “I’m still feeling rather shaky.”

They sat next to each other on the sofa, neither feeling like speaking about what they had experienced.

Finally, Adam said, “We ought to go to bed.”

“I might stay downstairs,” Lucas replied.

“No, I need you with me tonight.  I’m not sure I shall be able to sleep, but I’d be happier if I knew you were close by.”

“We can lie awake together?”

“Yes.”

 

 


End file.
